


A New Area of Study

by Melacka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Flirting, Kink Negotiation, Pre-Kink, Romance, Sexting via owls, exploring boundaries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:47:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24109222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melacka/pseuds/Melacka
Summary: Hermione flushed with pleasure as she read the note from Daphne a few times. Hergirlfriendhad bought her a book. Her girlfriend had bought her a book because she wasthinkingabout her. Hermione eagerly removed the note so she could see the title page:Kink: A Comprehensive Guide for the Modern Witch.Or, Daphne tries to gently suggest a new area of study to Hermione.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Daphne Greengrass
Comments: 32
Kudos: 75
Collections: Femmefest 2020





	A New Area of Study

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nearlyconscious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nearlyconscious/gifts).



> A gift for nearlyconscious as a part of HP Femmefest. The prompt I went with was established relationship sexting via owl with a side of future kink negotiation. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> A big thanks to GlassesofJustice for the speedy beta. Any remaining mistakes are mine!

Hermione couldn’t concentrate. She’d been staring at the same paragraph of text for at least the last half an hour and she couldn’t make heads nor tails of it.

“Hermione?”

Hermione looked up tiredly to see her assistant entering the room.

“Yes?”

“It’s after three, do you want to stop for food?”

“Oh,” she said vaguely, her mind still half-focused on the obscure text in front of her. “Right. Food.”

She’d lost track of time again and had forgotten to stop working to eat lunch. It was becoming something of a recurring problem.

“Do you want me to pop out and get you something?” Penny asked kindly. “I think the café on the corner should still be selling sandwiches.”

“No, no,” Hermione said quickly, smiling at the offer. “Going out will be good for me. I should stretch my legs, clear my head, that sort of thing. Maybe I’ve been at this too long today.”

“Don’t forget to go through your mail, either. More came in earlier and some of them require a response—”

“Right, of course.”

Hermione cast a worried look at the teetering pile of letters. She’d been ignoring all but the most urgent correspondence lately and it was really starting to get out of hand.

“New plan,” she sighed. “I’ll start going through my mail—”

“And I’ll get you some food.”

“If you don’t mind? Thanks, Penny.”

When the door closed behind her, Hermione stretched languidly, rolling her head from side to side and wincing at the stiffness in her neck. She flicked her wand at the pile of mail, sorting it automatically into known and unknown senders. Hermione still received quite a lot of unsolicited mail from strangers, offering her helpful suggestions along the lines of, “You don’t belong here, Mudblood,” or “Go back where you came from.” She’d learned to develop a thick skin and open every envelope with extreme caution.

She summoned the pile of letters from recognised senders and flipped through them quickly. Two from Harry, one from Luna, five from various departments at the Ministry, a magazine she had a subscription for and a parcel from Daphne.

She felt a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she traced over the letters on the front of the parcel. Daphne really did have _lovely_ handwriting and every time she saw her own name spelled out in it, she could hear Daphne’s voice as clearly as if she’d been in the room with her. She closed her eyes, sighing in pleasure. _Hermione_ , Daphne’s lilting beautiful voice echoed in her head. _Hermione_. She clutched the parcel to her chest.

“Hermione?”

Penny was back, standing in the doorway with a wrapped sandwich in her hand and a vaguely amused look on her face. Hermione blushed and dropped the parcel into her lap.

“Just, uh, going through my mail,” Hermione said shrilly. “Lots to get done. Busy, busy.”

She grabbed the nearest letter and opened it quickly. Penny placed the sandwich on the desk in front of her and left, smirking slightly. Hermione stopped pretending to read the letter from Harry and snatched up the parcel from Daphne again. She unwrapped the paper eagerly and a note fell out. She picked it up and read it quickly.

_I saw this book and couldn’t help but think of you._

_D  
_ _xo_

Hermione flushed with pleasure as she read these words through a few times. Her _girlfriend_ had bought her a book. Her girlfriend had bought her a book because she was _thinking_ about her. She folded the note away carefully and turned her attention back to the book. She touched the cover curiously, turning it over in her hands. It was completely blank. Just a plain, hard cover in a deep, rich purple colour. There wasn’t even any text on the spine. Intrigued, she opened it and found another note from Daphne.

_Think of me when you read through it. I really want to know what you think._

Hermione eagerly removed the note so she could see the title page: _Kink: A Comprehensive Guide for the Modern Witch._

Hermione gasped and looked around her office guiltily, even though she knew she was alone. She looked back at the book, just to make sure it actually said what she thought it did. The title was still there, completely unchanged. She turned the pages until she got to the introduction. She scanned the page quickly, with random words and phrases jumping out at her. _Domination_. _Submission. Role play._ Rope tying techniques. Incorporating magic. Useful spells. Risk awareness. Safe words.

Hermione shut the book quickly and stared at the cover in shock. Why had Daphne given her this? What had possessed her? Had Hermione given her the impression that she _liked_ this sort of thing? She closed the book quickly and stood up from her chair. She started to pace up and down the length of the room, her thoughts an agitated mess. Was Daphne _bored_ with her? Was this her way of letting her know? Or was this just a normal part of magical sexual experience that she had somehow completely missed? She glared at the book accusingly, as if it were at fault.

Hermione sighed and on second thought realized the book wasn't totally unprecedented. Daphne had been sending her sexy notes at work almost as long as they’d been together. It was one of her favourite games to play. She’d send Hermione little notes throughout the day, bland little nothings filled with unimportant work details. But within these notes, she’d conceal something special. Something just for Hermione. Sometimes, it would be a reminder of their last night together, or a helpful suggestion for how they could pass the time in an especially tedious meeting. Other times, Daphne would explain in great detail exactly what she wanted to do to Hermione.

Daphne was full of suggestions.

On particularly dull days in the office, she would send upwards of five notes at random intervals. Hermione was sure that she liked to keep it as random as possible so she would never be able to discern a pattern and boy had she _tried_. She wanted to be able to control this, or at least her reaction to it. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy it, of course. She loved to feel the delicious thrum of anticipation in her body. The ache of unfulfilled desire. But she wanted to _know_ when it was going to happen. She wanted to be able to plan it. But Daphne would never allow that. Daphne wanted her to be on edge. She wanted her to be wondering when the next note would come through and who would be standing in the room when it did. One particularly memorable note had left Hermione hard pressed to explain why a seemingly innocent interdepartmental memo was making her blush so much. Three quarters of the way through, right in the middle of a sentence about appropriate reporting of magical accidents, Daphne had written, _I still remember the way you taste_.

Daphne loved to make her squirm.

Hermione didn’t want to admit that she would happily squirm for her. Any time. Any place.

She didn’t have to admit it.

Daphne already knew.

They’d been playing this game for months. Daphne was almost always the one who started them off with a filthy suggestion on a Monday morning. She always thought that it was a good, positive start to the work week. Sometimes she would turn up at Hermione’s office, all innocent enquiries and deferential silence until they were alone. Then she’d push Hermione roughly against a wall or pull her down into the nearest chair. Sometimes she’d snog her for a few leisurely minutes before disappearing without a word, leaving her dishevelled and flustered. Sometimes she’d work her hands into her robes and whisper absolute filth in her ear as she fucked her with her fingers. She could be quick and efficient, or she could be slow and calculated. Either way, Hermione had slowly allowed her horizons to expand as she got more and more comfortable with Daphne.

Hermione tried to think about it rationally. Was this a natural progression of their relationship? Should she have seen it coming? Could it all just be a big joke? Something that Daphne was hoping would make her a little uncomfortable but expect them to laugh about later?

Hermione paced restlessly for a few minutes more before she bowed to the inevitable and threw herself back in her chair. She pointed her wand at the door and locked it very, very securely. Only then did she carefully pick up the book and open it to the first chapter. With a deep breath, she started to read.

Two hours later, she closed the book and sat back in her chair, massaging her temples. She stared listlessly at the ceiling for a while, considering all that she had read. This needed to be handled delicately, at least until she knew what Daphne had meant by it. She needed to know exactly how she felt about all of it before she saw Daphne later that night. She needed to be _prepared_.

She needed to do some research.

Excited in spite of herself at the prospect of diving into a brand new area of study, Hermione cleared away her work papers with a careless flourish of her wand. She drew a fresh sheet of parchment towards her and took up her quill.

A knock sounded at the door and Hermione quickly removed the locks she’d put up earlier.

“Come in.”

“I’m heading off now, Hermione,” Penny said cheerfully. “Is there anything you need before I go?”

“No, I’m going to stay a little longer.”

“Got a fresh wind, then?”

“Something like that,” Hermione said, slowly. “Good night, Penny.”

When the door closed behind her, Hermione drew the innocent-looking book back towards her and opened it at the first chapter. She took a deep breath and started to read again, quill in hand.

When she finally left the office, it was already nearly nine. She was exhausted and starving but well satisfied with her progress. She’d continue her research tomorrow when she could get some more books. She’d reach out to Cassandra, her preferred magical bookseller for almost all occasions. Cassandra had never once asked her any awkward questions about her choice of research topics, and she’d had a few that could have raised some eyebrows over the years. She could rely on Cassandra to be discrete, as well. Her profile in the Wizarding World was still unfortunately high and she didn’t want any of the details of this particular research expedition being offered up for public consumption. And if that didn’t work out, she could always resort to Muggle London. There were always plenty of options there for someone who knew where to look. Either way, Hermione was excited at the prospect, anything that could give her more information on this fascinating new subject. Maybe she could even obtain some of the paraphernalia she’d been reading about.

“Paraphernalia,” she scoffed quietly. “Get a grip, Hermione.”

She shoved her uneaten sandwich in her bag and extinguished the lights on her way out.

* * *

Hermione apparated into her small flat, feeling the comforting hum of her wards allowing her entry. She could have apparated to the safe spot at the end of her street and just walked the rest of the way, but every once in a while, she craved that little tingle the magic gave her as she passed through. She paused with her head tilted to one side as she considered the silence. It felt wrong, somehow. Not as complete as it should be. She glanced around, suspicious, and saw the light on in the kitchen.

She knelt to quickly pat Crookshanks as he wove through her legs, purring softly in welcome. Standing up again, she removed her cloak and looked around curiously, absolutely certain that someone else was in the flat. She withdrew her wand and crept silently towards the kitchen. As she got closer, she could make out some muffled cursing and relaxed immediately. She would know that voice anywhere.

Taking a moment to calm her racing heart, she tried to decide what she would say about the book. Her options were fairly limited, admittedly. She could ignore it, try to be subtle about it or attack it head on. Reminding herself firmly that she was a _Gryffindor_ , for Merlin’s sake, she prepared to attack the problem head on. She wasn’t a child anymore. She could have a mature conversation about sex with her girlfriend. She could do it.

She _could_.

With fresh resolve, Hermione slipped her wand back in place and walked into the kitchen, a joke about breaking and entering ready on her lips. She stopped abruptly in the doorway, completely unprepared for the sight that greeted her.

“Daphne?” she breathed. “What are you doing?”

Daphne’s head snapped up at the sound of her voice and Hermione was surprised to see a somewhat sheepish look on her face.

“Hermione!” she cried, recovering her composure with enviable ease. “You’re home early!”

“Not really, it’s actually quite late,” Hermione countered calmly, surveying the wreck of her kitchen. “Are you going to answer my question?”

“What question was that?”

“Don’t play dumb, Daphne, it doesn’t suit you.”

“Everything suits me, Hermione,” Daphne said loftily. When Hermione didn’t smile, Daphne dropped the act and said seriously, “I was trying to make you dinner.”

“Dinner?” Hermione echoed incredulously, scanning the mess spread across every possible surface and up at least one of the walls. She spied one of the few cookbooks she owned and picked it up curiously. “You’re trying to cook without magic?”

“You don’t have to sound so surprised, Hermione,” Daphne muttered, shuffling awkwardly on the spot and avoiding Hermione’s eyes. “Your kitchen isn’t really set up for magical cooking.”

“My kitchen is barely set up for _any_ cooking,” she countered with a smile. “But I take your point. What brought this on? Is today a special occasion I’ve forgotten about?”

“You’ve been working really long hours lately and eating far too much rubbish as a result, if you eat at all. I thought it might be nice to, well—” she gestured around the kitchen, “I thought I could at least _try_ to cook you something.”

“Really? Is that the only reason?”

Daphne looked at her, clearly surprised.

“Isn’t that reason enough?”

“Of course!” Hermione said quickly. “I’m just, well, no one has ever—” She shook her head, unable to put how touched she was into words. She stepped around a pot of potatoes that was inexplicably sitting on the floor and pressed a kiss to Daphne’s cheek. “This is really sweet of you. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Daphne murmured, pulling her into a warm hug. “But now you’ve caught me at it, so the surprise is ruined.”

“Not ruined at all,” Hermione interjected quickly, pulling back to look at her. “I was _very_ surprised!”

“Yes, well, now that you are here, you can help me decipher these instructions. I swear this has been written to be deliberately confusing. I mean, look at that, what does that even mean?”

Hermione cast a cursory glance at the page where Daphne was pointing and shut the book with a snap.

“Don’t worry about it,” she whispered, gently cradling Daphne’s face in her hands. “Thank you so much for trying, love. I really do appreciate it.”

“Don’t just give me points for effort, Hermione.”

“Why ever not? The effort is what matters, surely?”

“Don’t patronise me.”

“I’m not!” Hermione pressed a kiss to Daphne’s neck, smiling when she moaned appreciatively. “I just think that the effort you put in has had the desired effect.”

“And what purpose has it achieved?”

Hermione was pleased at how breathless Daphne suddenly sounded.

“You’ve certainly put me in the mood.”

“Oh really?” Daphne asked teasingly. “In the mood for what?”

Hermione nuzzled against her neck again and reached up to cup the back of her head.

“Hermione,” Daphne moaned. “The food.”

“We’ll order pizza,” Hermione whispered.

* * *

Hermione waited for another two hours before she broached the subject of the book. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast and wanted to try to get a feel for Daphne’s mood before she brought it up. But Daphne didn’t seem especially perturbed. She’d helped Hermione clean up the disaster in the kitchen and had obligingly fed Crookshanks while Hermione ordered a pizza.

When they finished their food and were sharing the dregs of a bottle of wine together, Hermione decided that she’d delayed it long enough.

“I received your parcel today.”

Hermione was proud of how calm she sounded. She sipped her wine and watched Daphne closely as she took this in.

“Really?” she murmured. “I wasn’t sure if you had received it or not. When I didn’t hear anything about it all week, I just assumed you didn’t want to talk about it.”

“All _week_?” Hermione repeated incredulously. “Just when did you send it to me?”

“Friday.”

“Friday? But it’s Thursday today!”

“Yes, I noticed that as well,” Daphne said dryly. “You really only got it today?”

“It’s possible I haven’t paid as close attention to my mail as I should have.”

Daphne smiled and finished off her wine.

“How could you keep quiet about it all this time? It must have been driving you mad!”

“I was a little worried,” Daphne conceded, pouring them both another glass of wine. “But you’ve been so busy and stressed all the time, I didn’t want to make it worse.”

“But why did you send it to me?” Hermione burst out, abruptly abandoning her pretence of calm. “Is there something wrong with, well, _us_?”

“No!” Daphne sloshed some wine onto the table in her hurry to grasp Hermione’s hand. “Not at all, Hermione!”

“Then _why_?”

“It is something that I am interested in,” Daphne said slowly.

Hermione had the impression that she was choosing her words very carefully. She nodded encouragingly and tried to smile, but she wasn’t sure how successful she was.

“I didn’t know how to approach the topic with you, but I thought you might be receptive to the idea. Or at least some of the ideas. I mean, sometimes I get the feeling you might be into this sort of thing.”

“What?” Hermione cried.

“Well, you always seem to enjoy it when I pull your hair—”

“That doesn’t mean anything!”

“And you got pretty worked up when I spanked—”

“Daphne, please,” Hermione said, her face flaming.

“And I have noticed that you seem to become more than usually aroused when I give you clear instructions of what I want from you.”

“So?”

“So, you like it when I tell you what to do in bed.”

“And?”

“And you would hate it if I tried to do that in any other situation.”

Hermione gaped for a moment, unable to find an appropriate response. Eventually, she sought refuge in a little self-righteous indignation.

“These are all perfectly normal reactions to this kind of stimuli!”

“Stimuli, Hermione?” Daphne said sarcastically. “Do I _stimulate_ you?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Tell me how.”

“What?”

“Tell. Me. How.”

Hermione watched Daphne enunciate each word carefully as she stood up from the table.

“Stop it, Daphne,” Hermione said quietly. “I just don’t understand, why didn’t you just talk to me about this? Do you have any idea how it felt to just receive this in the mail at _work_?

“I’ve sent you much worse things than this at work, Hermione!”

“Anyone could have seen it!”

“No, I’ve charmed it,” Daphne said quickly. “You’re the only one who will be able to see what is actually in the book. For anyone else, it looks like a magical history book.”

Hermione heaved a sigh of relief.

“All the same, love, you haven’t told me why you did it.”

Daphne shrugged awkwardly and Hermione stared at her in silence. It was so rare for Daphne to be flustered in any way that even that slightly awkward movement stood out to her.

“I’ve been trying to find a way of talking to you about it for so long, Hermione,” she said miserably. “And I thought that you might prefer the non-confrontational route, you know, an opportunity to learn something new? A book you could dive into before you had to talk to anyone about a subject you were unfamiliar with.”

“Oh,” Hermione mumbled. “Well, yes, that does actually make sense.”

“But I shouldn’t have just sprung it on you like that, I’m really sorry for doing that. I panicked and thought it was the easiest way, but I should’ve been brave enough to speak to you directly.”

“I’m not sure how well I would have taken it if you had tried,” Hermione said honestly. “It really hurt me to think that I wasn’t enough for you and I don’t think I would have reacted well if you’d forced me to have a conversation about it.”

Hermione looked down at the table, feeling almost guilty for admitting this out loud. Daphne came over to her quickly and put her hands on top of her head, stroking through her hair gently. Hermione closed her eyes and leaned her head against Daphne’s stomach.

“I never meant to hurt you, Hermione,” she whispered, sounding anguished. “If you aren’t interested in discussing this any further, that’s absolutely fine. It’s not important.”

“If it wasn’t important you wouldn’t have brought it up, Daphne, you know that.” She pulled back and looked at her seriously. “And I want to talk about it. I want us to find a way forward.”

“Yeah?”

“And it’s possible there is some truth in what you said.” She pulled Daphne into her lap and hugged her tight. “I _do_ enjoy it when you tell me what to do in some very specific circumstances.”

“Yes, I think I may have noticed a slight tendency there.”

“And I do want to discuss this further.”

“Me too.”

“I’ve made some notes.”

“Notes?”

“You know, initial thoughts, potential research ideas, other books to look up, spells to learn, further areas of study—”

Daphne laughed delightedly and leaned down to kiss her, interrupting the flow of words.

Hermione didn’t mind at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to anyone who reads/leaves kudos/comments. I really do appreciate it!


End file.
